Get Well Soon, DibStink
by FriedMetaki
Summary: Even sworn enemies can show sympathy for one another once in awhile. Implied ZADR, mostly ZADF


**Author's Note:** Dear Jhonen, please kill me for drowning the creepy essence of your demented show with this fluffy dribble. Sincerely, that weird fangirl you kept encountering on the bus last year.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the show. If I did, there would be a lot more a ZADR in it.

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><p>When Dib woke up this morning, he knew the rest of his day was going to bring nothing else but one misfortune after the other. And he could say that his assumption was quite accurate. The first thing that told him his day was going to be a miserable one (even more so than usual) for him, was that he woke up feeling terrible.<p>

His body ached from head to foot with unbearable pain, making it incredibly difficult to sit up, much less get out of bed. He knew he wouldn't be in the best of health after the extremely violent fight he'd had with his arch-nemesis Zim the day before, but he didn't think he'd be feeling THIS horrible.

Almost as if trying to prove to him how much he had taken his health for granted, his lungs attacked him an onslaught of coughs and hacks while trying to get off the bed. Making his way down the stairs after getting ready for school didn't prove to be any easier of a task. Dib found himself quite frequently having to pause to either hack or try not to pass out.

Groaning in pain, he sluggishly dragged his body over to the kitchen table to get breakfast, practically collapsing onto a nearby chair. He grasped at his throbbing head to push back the swirling images that were making it increasingly difficult to see where he was going. Dib had barely noticed his sister gnawing on some slightly burnt toast across the table.

Lifting his head up, he tries to ask her something that is interrupted by a severe coughing fit that even causes his sister to briefly glance over at him in concern. Her brother wasn't very well known for getting sick too badly, so his extremely pitiful state was at least enough to somewhat bother her. Sort of. Not that Gaz would ever admit that out loud, of course.

"Geez, what's wrong with _you?"_She takes another bite of her piece of toast after she asks this, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. There was a chance he might be so sick he'd barely remember her openly being kind to him, but she wasn't going to take any chances. She had a reputation to look out for.

A moment of silence passes between them as Dib continues to cough and hack loudly. Once he's sure he can breathe long enough to at least get a few words out, he takes this chance to respond back to her, "I don't know…all I know is that I feel like a pile of crap."

Gaz isn't sure if it's the thought something other than her is making her brother miserable or the thought that she's actually feeling concerned for his wellbeing is making her feel so uncomfortable. All she knows is she isn't enjoying it as much she normally might, "Well…at least you're not feeling any crappier than you normally do."

Ugh. That sentence was not supposed to come out the way it did. But it was her stupid brother's fault getting so sick in the first place while she was around. She didn't know what to do with sick people other than avoid them. The last thing she was interested in was catching their sickness, especially not whatever Dib had. It was practically turning him into a lifeless corpse; a sight was almost making her sick to keep looking at.

She averts her gaze away from the view of her deathly sick brother as the conversation fades away into awkward silence. Well, as silent as things could get with Dib breaking into a coughing fit ever few minutes. The next sight she catches in her line of view is a lot easier on the eyes. A sight that she should, no- would see more often if it didn't have such a busy schedule. She turns her attention towards their world famous father, but is too busy eating to properly acknowledge his presence.

"Hello, children! I just received some fantastic news today!" The prodigal scientist remained completely oblivious to the lack of excitement that was shared between his children. And to the fact that his son was uncharacteristically quiet, "I was just given the opportunity to personally work on a life-changing project here at home. My co-workers all agreed I have the only equipment suitable to work on it with."

Dib was admittedly a little enthused about the idea of his dad getting to stay home for awhile, but he wasn't about to get his hopes up (he had no energy to at the moment.) He knew that in cases like this, all of his father's attention would be spent working on this new project, and nothing else, "Yeah that's...great, dad. I'm really-" He's interrupted with yet another fit of coughing which Membrane, oblivious as he may be, can't ignore.

The fit of coughing snaps Membrane out of his scientific endeavors induced reverie, promptly examining his son's state of health. He lets out an interested 'hmm' as he checks his eyes, his skin complexion checks the inside of his mouth- going about the procedure if Dib were attending his routinely check-up at a doctor's appointment. "Son. I don't think you will be attending school today. From what I've been able to ascertain, you're in the developing stages of bronchitis. It's only minor at this point, but if you push yourself it will get worse."

"But, daad!" The whine puts a heavy strain on the boy's throat, trying to invoke a cough that he holds back in an attempt to prove to his father just how unsick he had miraculously become. "I HAVE to school today! I had this big plan in store to get back at Zim for yesterday! I had this huge water cannon I made and everythi-" He doesn't get a chance to prevent himself from coughing out loud this time, only just barely having time to at least muffle his hacking sounds.

"I won't listen to any excuses! You can torment your little foreign friend some other time. He'll still be there when you've had some time to heal. In fact, I'm going to call up your school right now to make sure that they know you'll be out of commission for awhile," That having been said, the scientist leaves the room without even giving his son a fair chance to protest against the decision. That was the problem with Membrane, once he set his mind on one decision, nothing could change his mind.

As Dib grudgingly accepts that no amount of persuasion would be able to even slightly change the situation, just he and his sister are left in the room. No words are exchanged between the two, leaving the kitchen completely silent, the only audible sounds being the muffled voice of Membrane arguing with the school receptionist on the phone.

The paranormal enthusiast's patience instantly wears thin as he makes out what sounds like his father managing to convince to his creepy old hag of a teacher that his son will be absent for a few days. It's not so much the fact that he'll be stuck at home in bed with nothing to do that bothers him. What truly bothers him is the fact that he knows that Zim will be more than glad to take advantage of this opportunity to continue on with his plans.

And as always, no one else will even try to stop him, either because they don't care or they're too stupid to notice a criminally insane alien from outer space is that much closer to conquering their planet every day. No matter how much he exerts himself to prove to his blind classmates, none of them will ever be able to tell that the Irken is in fact exactly that, an Irken.

It was so obvious! He shouldn't even NEED to put so much effort into proving this to other people the way he did. It was enough to make him want to scream, rant, and rage all at once until the entire world could hear him. But for now, the best he could do was vent out his frustrations, which is just what he proceeded to do.

"This is unbelievable! Not only do I lose my chance to get back at Zim, he'll be free to get what away with anything for who knows how long it'll take for me to recover! Which won't even matter anymore because he'll have blown up the entire Earth by then! I hate my stupid bad luck, I hate stupid Zim, I hate stupid combustible Earth, I hate my stupid bronchitis, and I hate my STUPID self for caring so much!" With a shout of frustration, Dib angrily slams his face on the table, not even caring that he might suffer a headache from that later.

Finishing off the last little bit of her piece of burnt toast, Gaz walks over to her agitated brother, feeling it appropriate for her to at least attempt to say something to lessen his mood. She places her hands on her brother's shoulder, albeit a bit awkwardly, being unfamiliar with the comforting gesture, "Its okay, Dib. I hate your stupid existence, too."

Dib lifts his head up ever so slightly at the comment, the expression on his face indicating that it had not worked out the way his sister hoped it would, "…Gee, thanks for reminding me."

"Anytime," The purple haired gamer replies nonchalantly, with a slight shrug of her shoulders before she heads out the door to walk to school.

Dib nearly has to fight against the urge to defiantly follow after her while his father's sidetracked, even though he knows he shouldn't. He sighs as he convinces himself it'd be pointless to try to sneak into school, as he didn't even have any energy to spare for the task anyways.

But if he had second thoughts about the idea, he wasn't given a chance to. The instant Membrane noticed that he was still in the kitchen, he was hastily ushered off into bed. The young boy fussed about it the entire time, but his disdain was ignored.

Really, any normal kid would've been happy to have an excuse to not have to show up for school for a couple of weeks. And he tried to will himself into making the best of this opportunity, he really did. But he just couldn't do it. He couldn't enjoy this time away from school, for a number of highly justifiable reasons.

He was hacking up mucus so badly that he wasn't actually able to do much. He wanted a glass of water really badly, but he could barely sit up for very long without being overwhelmed with dizziness, and his dad never thought to stop by to offer him one the entire time he was home. He thought he might spend this time spying on Zim's base with his implanted security cameras, but there was also the problem that he was so sick he could barely move….

Dib heaves out an irritated sigh. There was really absolutely nothing he could do to make this situation any less miserable. Much like how most of his life seemed to play out. It was as if he was butt of some big cosmic joke.

'My life stinks,' Dib thinks to himself sourly, covering his body with the rest of his blankets. Perhaps if he hid himself from view, whatever hateful deity that was in charge of his bad luck couldn't torture him if he wasn't visible.

At some point, Dib must've fallen asleep on the covers, though he couldn't remember when. What had awoken was the sound of someone knocking on his door. He drearily turns over to try to get up, instantly regretting the effort as an unrelenting fit of brutal coughing reminds the boy how little he can do. He gives up on this, lifelessly flopping back down on his bed. "Come in," He hoarsely responds to the visitor.

The door is roughly flung open, revealing the visitor to be his very infuriated sister. If it weren't for the fact that he was bed ridden, Dib was pretty sure she would've beaten him to an unrecognizable state, "Your stupid friend Zim is SO dead. He wouldn't stop bugging me on my way home today, even when I threatened to doom him to a horrible nightmare world. Tomorrow, he's going to suffer so much he will never again understand the meaning of peace."

Dib stares after her with a deadpan expression, not entirely sure how he was supposed to respond to her. She rarely ever confided in him about anything, unless she was forced to or was threatening _him_, "Um...not that this conversation isn't...interesting -if you can call it that- but, why are you telling me all of this?"

Looking as angry as ever, Gaz mockingly imitates his question, "Why am I telling you this? Tch, it's no wonder you two are always hanging out together, you're both equally retarded."

There was the possibility that Dib might've not heard her clearly due to how sick he was, but he was pretty certain that he missed the part of that sentence where she was supposed to explain the reason behind this perplexing exchange, "And...?"

"AND the reason I'm even talking to you right now is that the reason why Zim kept bugging me was because of you, so it's only fair that you have to listen to me talk about it," Gaz states in a matter of fact tone, as if this reason was somehow so bluntly obvious that he was a moron for not realizing it.

The aforementioned paranormal investigator passes her a bewildered expression, positive that he had not heard her right. After taking the time to process what she stated, he bursts into hysterical laughter, "Because of ME! Is this some kind of joke? I'm the last person that stupid alien would be worried about."

The customary stern expression remains on her face, even while her brother's laughter dies down and he suffers a momentary coughing fit as a consequence for putting so much strain on his throat, "Try telling that to HIM, not me. He's seems to have forgotten how little he should be worrying about you."

Dib passes her an amused glance; no longer entertained by her joke or rather what he had assumed was her joke, "Cut it out already, Gaz! This joke stopped being funny a few minutes ago."

Gaz scoffs incredulously at her older brother's assumption, "I don't joke, idiot. You've lived with me long enough to know that I don't have a sense of humor."

Though he isn't intending to make it seem as if he's mocking his sister's response, Dib lets out an incredulous scoff of his own, "Like I'm going to believe THAT. You've tricked me plenty of times before. Remember that one time where I couldn't find my old blanket when we were little, you told me it was gone because dad had to trade it off to the horrible alien society living under my bed or else they would've set off the bombs they put in my bed and all of my food? I was so paranoid I couldn't sleep or eat for a whole month!"

"Well, how else was I supposed to get back at you for spilling that juice on my GameSlave?" Gaz sighs exasperatedly after seeing that her justification for her past cruel trick only earns her an angry glare. Man, he really knew how to hold grudges, "Ugh, you still don't believe me? Fine. Take this disgusting thing then."

Dib is left with little time to register what she tosses over to him, barely catching it in his currently weak grasp. Once he does, he takes a few moments to cautiously analyze the metallic object. Of course he couldn't just blindly accept it without being skeptical; after all it was from Zim so there was a likelihood that this device was designed to kill him. "Wait! What is this thing? Is it safe to open?"

Having been in the middle of leaving her sick brother's bedroom, she does a sideways turn around to face him. Considering his question, she shrugs as she realizes she knows as little about the device as he does, "How am I supposed to know? All Zim told me about it was to give it to you."

With that, she then turns around, resuming with exiting his bedroom after responding. As an excuse to stall himself from having to commence the task of activating the suspicious device, Dib watches her leave his room until she's completely out of view. Now with nothing else to focus on, his attention is brought back to the device he's holding in his hands.

Dib was not going to lie to himself. He was more than a little nervous about activating this contraption. He would not put it past the criminally insane Irken to plant explosives or some deadly poison in whatever…this thing was. It wasn't too big though, so Zim couldn't fit much inside of it. Maybe Dib was just being unreasonably paranoid. Maybe he shouldn't always assume that the alien was seeking to end his life.

Perhaps Dib's instincts were correct, and the instant he figured out how to activate the machine he would be killed. Then once he was killed, there would be no one to prevent Zim fulfilling his twisted dream of world conquest, leaving the world to burn until there was nothing left. Until the entire human race was wiped out from existence. Once that happened, Dib would be blamed for failing mankind, and he would never be allowed to rest peacefully in his death and- and!

Or maybe he really is going insane. This device, machine, contraption, whatever it was supposed to be was clearly just a gift. Or something like that. Even his arch nemesis couldn't be cruel enough to try to kill him while he's already out of commission. Still…Dib couldn't help but question the invader's motives behind offering him a gift or even worrying about his wellbeing in the first place. It's not like the two were known for being kind to each other. He had every right to be paranoid.

Then again, no one had ever given him a gift before. In the midst of all that questioning and paranoia, Dib does feel a little flattered that the Irken would even consider making something for him, even if he couldn't figure out what it was. Well, there was only one way to find that out. Dib gulps nervously as he proceeds to press the activation button he had finally discovered while looking for a way to turn it on.

The very second his finger presses down Dib drops the device, huddling against his pillow in fear that an explosion that might be following after. But no, that isn't what happens. Instead, the device changes shape into the form of what looks like a small laptop. Dib arches a curious eyebrow at the device in front of him, cautiously approaching it.

Seeing only one button on it labeled as "PLAY" on its new form Dib presses it, not sure what to expect. The screen on the miniature laptop resembling device comes to life, showing the image of Zim's face. Startled, Dib jumps back a bit, expecting the Irken to leap out at him. But that doesn't happen either. In fact, Dib now feels he has a better idea of what this device is- it's the Irken equivalent message transmitter, or something like it. Now more intrigued than cautious, Dib listens closely to the recorded message.

"Hello, Dib-_germ_," Zim sneers crudely, to which the Dib can only glare at the hologram on screen as a response. Of course, the Irken continues on with his message as if Dib is not there, since he wasn't at the time it was recorded, "You might be wondering what kind of device the almighty ZIM has sent to you. If you are not too mentally impaired –which Zim highly doubts- you should have figured out that it's a message transmitter. We have lots of these on Irk."

"But seeing as I am on this PUTRID planet and not there, I had to custom design this one myself. Why did Zim make this message transmitter, you ask! Because of YOU, DIB-SMELL. Do you have any idea how utterly bored Zim was without having any arch nemesis to torture! OF COURSE YOU DON'T, BECAUSE YOU ARE TOO REVOLTINGLY SELFISH TO THINK ABOUT WHAT *I*, ZIM, WANTS! Then, THEN Zim discovers from the Bitters creature that you are out of commission!"

"OH, HOW OUTRAGED ZIM WAS! How DARE you do you do this to me! I tried to find another inferior stink creature to torture while you were gone today, BUT IT WASN'T THE SAME! They were all too stupid, and too smelly and too not Dib enough! But don't you start thinking that Zim needs your disgusting presence or anything like that! You are merely the only one suitable to be Zim's enemy! That is all it is!"

"S-so, GET WELL SOON DIB-STINK! Or Zim will do HORRIBLE things that gigantic head of yours! And well, maybe, because Zim is just slightly worrie-" The Irken is interrupted in his near admittance of feeling worried about Dib as GIR pops up front of the screen, blocking Zim's face from the screen. The little robot lets out an awed sound as he begins fiddling with what Dib guesses is what Zim was recording with.

"WHAT'S THIS MASTER! IT LOOKS ALL SHINY AND ITS GOT TASTY BUTTONS ON IT! CAN I EAT IT! I WANNA TASTE IT, LEMME TASTE IIIIT!" The robot screeches obnoxiously, the high pitch of his voice hurting Dib's ears.

Growling angrily the Irken glares at the robot in front of him, having no patience for his antics as usual, "No, GIR! Get away from there! You're messing up the recording! Zim demands that you get out his way right now!"

"B-but master, she and I are meant to be with each other! We're soulmates! Like jelly on toast! You know how I like to toast crayons and put jelly on them!" GIR protests, proceeding to get his slobber all over the screen, a sight that Dib cringes at.

"Zim does not care! Stop what you are doing right now- no, GIR! Don't run off with the recorder or you'll unplug the transmittio-!" As If on cue the screen fizzes out, eventually causing it to turn black.

Closing up the device he holds it as he leans back on his bed, contemplating the message that he just got. Zim was actually for worried him, his own arch nemesis. Aside from the invader, he didn't have close relationships with anyone but he knew enough about them to know that his arch-nemesis was not supposed to be worried about him. Though he had to admit that for an arch-nemesis, was a pretty odd anyways. He smirks in amusement over the situation, shaking his head in disbelief as he lets this all sink in.

Well, Dib supposed he owed Gaz an apology. That maniacal Irken really was genuinely worried. It didn't make sense to him though, and probably didn't make sense to Zim either. Yet in some weird unexplainable way, Dib was happy that the Irken was worried about him. Being ignored most of the time at home made him grateful for any attention he got. Maybe when he got back to school, he shouldn't get back at Zim with an ENTIRE water cannon, especially not after the nice gesture. He'd only assault him with a small water balloon. That was fair enough.

After all, he was still a stupid Irken so he still had to do something bad to him for that fight they had yesterday. He was a stupid Irken as well as stupid arch-nemesis for getting so worried about him. Stupid Irkens and their stupid emotions and their stupid ways of caring and their stupid, but touching gifts.

As Dib gets ready to get back to sleep, he places the message transmitter that his very own arch-nemesis went through the trouble of making just for him on his nightstand. Looking at it one last time before he dozes off, he smiles fondly at the device, "Thanks, space boy."

Who would've thought that the very person who ended up making his miserable day a little less miserable ended up being his own arch-nemesis.


End file.
